


solangelo pirate au

by iisintrovert



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Innuendo, M/M, Nico is a Dork, Pirate AU, lots of pirate stuff, nico is a pirate, solangelo, will is a peasent, will is super cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iisintrovert/pseuds/iisintrovert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nico's father shows up and dies in an 'accident', Nico inherits his ship of dead crewmates. Trouble ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	solangelo pirate au

Nico was really starting to get annoyed.  
First the riots and the murdering, then the bowing and the fear...his whole week had just been a mess of strange events that rubbed him the wrong way. Both of his parents being murdered, for example.  
It all started a few days ago. His mother, a very slight immigrant women with a sharp mind and an even sharper mouth had been acting quiet. This was the first strange event. Maria di Angelo was almost never quiet, and Nico noticed. After living with only his mother for his whole sixteen summers, he had become very close to her.  
Nico was the illegitimate child of an immigrant and a white soldier who lived in a house designed for the middle class. He was always fed, his clothes always washed and neat, and he showed up for lessons with a group tutor every Friday. He was, in a way, an anomaly. A mixed boy from a foreign country wasn't supposed to be so secure in his finances.  
Still, even though he was very curious, he knew it wasn't his place to ask questions. He loved his mother and how she ended up with the money was her business.  
She had been acting strange, of course.  
“Ma-mah,” Nico finally asked her after she had finished scrubbing the dirty dishes with sand without saying anything about how he should be helping. “are you feeling alright?”  
The woman whipped her hands of on the thin skirt and apron wrapped around her skinny waist. She turned around and smiled warmly at her son, reaching out to affectionately ruffle his unruly dark curls. “Nothing is wrong, piccolo.” she assured Nico. “Just very tired. Many clothes had to be washed at the shop today.”  
The young boy almost believed her. Almost.  
After trying to lead his mother into a discussion that might result in her getting in a fuss, or perhaps scolding him, and coming out unyielding, he decided to go to sleep. Maybe she'll sleep it off? Nico thought hopefully.  
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. After his long day of climbing, the small bed in the back room of his small house was calling for him.  
Before settling down for bed, he pulled off his breeches – leather, the only luxury clothing he owned – and sleeved shirt, folding them neatly and tucking them under his hay-sack pillow. Nico didn't want them to wrinkle. His mother quite liked how neatly he dressed, and what made her happy, would eventually make him happy. Sleeping in just his stockings and a night shirt it was.  
The gray wool cap that sat on his head every Sunday (thanks to the queen's new law) was hanging on the nail his mother hammered into the wall above his bed. Considering how cold it was getting to be at night, Nico decided to tuck it on over his ears just in case.  
He pulled the worn wool blanket up to his neck, and tried to dream of a warm beach.

He was woken up by shouting and the bright light of a fire.  
It took Nico a few groggy moments to realize it wasn't just unnaturally warm sunlight, but that his house was ablaze with the licking tendrils of fire. He quickly stuffed his clothing into an empty pillow case, and tucked the pillow case under his shirt.  
The wooden support beams of the roof were close to crashing down.  
Ma! His thoughts screamed. You have to find her! You have to save her!  
He agreed wholeheartedly.  
“Ma!” Nico yelled, shouldering his door opened. “Ma-mah!”  
There was no response. The roaring sounds of the fire drowned out any volume left in his voice.  
“Ma!” There was only a whimper left, accentuated by hacking coughs. The bright light in the air, and the soot on his eyes prevented him from being able to find her bedroom.  
Suddenly, there were arms around his waist and the little air in his lungs was knocked out of him.  
“Keep your mouth closed!” a deep voice hissed in his ear.  
Suddenly, he was back in his bedroom. His mother was clutching his face, kissing him on the cheeks.  
“Cuore mio!” She cried. “My heart! Thank god!”  
“Maria, we have to go!” The gruff male voice stressed.  
Nico looked up to see a tall white man with a clean shaven face and a waist coat, The kind only sea men wear.  
He was going to ask so many questions, but he wasn't going to be allowed the time.  
“Hades, I cannot go. My legs, I won't be able to run. I'll only slow you down. Take your boy, please amore!”  
Nico registered what his mother had just said.  
“What?” He coughed. “No! Ma-mah!”  
“Go my love.” She whispered, kissing him on the cheek once more.  
The tall man grabbed him around the waist and picked him up easily.  
“No!” He screamed, kicking and crying. “Don't!”  
“I don't want to, but you're not making anything easier.” The man whispered in my ear. “Be quiet, or her death will mean nothing.”  
It didn't matter, really, because his jewelery ridden hand was covering Nico's mouth.  
His muffled voice was almost indistinguishable, but the man – Hades – still heard the curses.  
Nico suddenly felt his body lifting, and cool air graced his soot covered cheekbones. His body was being shoved up to the roof of the house neighboring his own, one that was surprisingly slick with cool water. He smelled salt.  
As he had no choice, he had to climb. Nico pushed away from Hades's arms and scrambled up the steep peak of the gabbled roof, moving so there was still room for the tall man to follow him.  
“Why!” He cried quietly. “We could have saved her!”  
The man shook his head grimly. “No, we couldn't have. There was nothing we could have done. She was too injured.”  
Nico almost punched him. “You bastard! She was my mother!”  
The man simply pushed him over to the other side of the roof. “Move! Climb down to the street, they're watching the house.”  
Nico did as he was told.  
“Who are you?” He asked.  
The man simply looked at him, before jumping down to the street to meet him. “I'm your father.”  
Realization bloomed across Nico's face. All his life, he had wondered, and this was the man? The supposed soldier in the royal army was no more then a pirate? And a rich french one at that. He must be where his mother gets the money.  
His mother.  
So that was it. Nico's entire body shook with sad fury. “You...” He started. “My mother was killed because of you.”  
The man backed up. Even though he was almost twice the size of the skinny child, the look in Nico's eyes was enough to scare him off.  
Nico reached up and grabbed the man's collar, cocking back his fist to punch him, when the sound of a gun firing assaulted his ears.  
A stain of red bloomed across Hades's chest. His lips parted, and the red liquid dripped out. “My son...”  
Nico screamed as then man collapsed before him. His fist was still clutching the collar of his father's waistcoat.

 

And that was that. The boy hadn't smiled since.  
With his fist clutching the expensive waist coat and his arms hugging the pillow sack to his chest, Nico ran from the soldiers policing the fire. He sprinted, climbed up houses, jumped over fences and swam through streams, finally reaching the one place that felt natural.  
The sea.  
He stared out at its gleaming waves, panting. He had lost the soldiers some time ago but you could never be too safe.  
Nico didn't know why he had left for the sea, only that there was a whim in his heart that had led him there.  
As he gazed across the ocean for a second time, he noticed something he hadn't before.  
There was a pirate ship.  
A small one, and run down by the looks of it, but a pirate ship none the less. It was the only one there. On the side of it, was a seal. The badge of the french navy...  
It must be his, He thought.  
Nico set his jaw. He was going to board that ship.

That was last Monday. Nico had been the captain of a ghost ship for five days. The skeletal ship men worshiped him, proclaiming that he was the first born of their master, and therefore their new master. Not that Nico minded. He quite liked the company of the dead men. It was the sailing part that irked him. He didn't exactly have a strong stomach.  
But he was doing okay. The constant vomiting kept his mind from thinking of his dead parents.  
This day, he had just woken up from a surprisingly peaceful nights sleep. The rocking of the boat seemed to calm him at night.  
One of his close servents knocked on the door to his office.  
“Come in, Midas.” Nico knew it was him because he was the only ghost brave enough to disturb him this early in the morning.  
“My lord,” The greasy dead man opened the door with his head bowed. “we're docking today, as the food supply is running a bit low, as well as the water barrels.”  
Nico waved him away. “Yes, that's fine. Just let me know when we do so I can get dressed.”  
“You see...We're already here.” Midas shifted uncomfortably, his translucent feet rubbing against the wood of the deck.  
Nico narrowed his eyes. “Where exactly is here?”  
“A small port town, in France.”  
The boy sighed. “Alright, just give me a moment.”  
The ghost bowed once more, and left his young captain to get dressed.  
Nico quickly pulled off his nightshirt and left it on his cot, folded neatly. I guess old habits die hard, he thought. He then pulled on his thin leather breeches, his white shirt, and the old tailcoat. The ghosts made some rumor about him surviving a shot to the back after he showed up with a waistcoat that was peppered with bullet holes. Nico grinned with no humor. He captained a ghost ship filled with ghosts who thought he should join them.  
His fathers old iron cutlass hung loosely at his side, itching to meet another blade.  
After he peered at his reflection through his small window and decided to use his wool cap to cover up his bed hair instead of attempting to tame it, he left his room and found Midas again.  
“Do the soldiers wish to speak to me?” He asked the hunched man. He was the son of a famous pirate, one who had been contracted by the french navy.  
“No, my lord. We must only run errands.”  
Nico nodded. “Is it alright if you and some of the ship men do that? I wish to stretch my legs. Maybe spend some time in the local tavern.”  
“That is perfectly fine my lord.” Nico thought that if the ghost bowed groveled anymore, his nose would be touching the deck.  
Nico stepped back and surveyed what little he could see of the small port they had docked at. The roofs were taller then the ones he was used to climbing, and the streets were much wider then that of his home village.  
“Alright.” He proclaimed. “Let's go.”

The people of the town wouldn't stop staring at him. Nico heard the frenzied whispers behind outstretched palms, knew exactly what they were saying about him.  
“Is that him?”  
“ – so young?”  
“Why are they see-through?”  
“They call him the ghost king,”  
Nico almost stopped walking at that last one.  
Ghost king, hmm? He thought. I can get used to that.  
“I am going to go get the supplies, master.”  
Nico waved him away. “Yes, oh course, do what you have to do.”  
Suddenly, something caught his eye. Well, someone. A tall, blond young man sitting in the window of what looked like the local tavern. His arms were wrapped carefully around some sort of strange instrument, plucking at the strings with long, graceful fingers.  
“We will wait for you at the ship in about three hours, yes my lord?”  
“Mhhm.” Nico responded, but he wasn't paying attention to anything Midas was saying. He was already on his way to the tavern. His dark eyes were transfixed on the back of the taller boy's head.  
When he opened the heavy wooden door, a lively tune of music graced his ears. Nico was almost drawn to the boy on the stool in the window.  
No, you musn't. He thought to himself. It's too obvious.  
Instead, he lifted his head high and walked up to the bartender to order a glass of mead.  
The gruff man looked at him skeptically, but with his signature death glare Nico shut him up immediately and took his drink.  
He then made his way to a seat near the boy playing the music. His angular face was a masterpiece. Nico couldn't take his eyes off him.  
When the boy was done playing his song, the entire tavern erupted in half-drunken cheering. The beautiful boy lifted his strung instrument high in the air and bowed low, a smirk playing across his lips. Nico felt the strange urge to touch them.  
He was too caught up in his own thoughts to realize that the boy had hopped off his stool, and was walking towards him.  
He quickly grabbed his glass off the table in front of him and downed half of the drink in one gulp.  
“You were looking at me the entire performance, anything you'd like to say?” The boy asked in a low voice. Nico thought he looked about seventeen, maybe older.  
“Umerh,” He blurted out. The drink was really affecting him. “No...not really.”  
The older boy almost looked... is that disappointment? “Alright.”  
“I have to go!” Nico stood up much to quickly and tried to back away from the taller, very attractive boy in front of him. He turned and made his way to the door, trying not to get distracted by the loud chatter that had risen up after the music stopped.  
Stupid, He berated himself. Why would you do something like that?  
He felt a hand grab his elbow. “Wait!” The blond boy called. “Don't just leave, I want to talk to you.”  
Nico slowly turned back around and leaned against the wall. “What about?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but he felt as though he sounded more needy then calm.  
The other boy grinned. “I'm William. Would you mind explaining why it looks as though you've been shot in the back?”  
Nico perked up. “That...you see, they actually are bullet holes.”  
William raised an eyebrow.  
“I'm not lying!” Nico protested. “My father was shot while wearing this coat.”  
The older boy looked impressed. “So the real ghost king was killed.”  
Nico took a step back. “Why do you say that?!”  
William laughed. “I know of the rumors, but I've always wondered if they were true. If you really are the boy who captains a ship full of the dead, then your father must have been the ghost king. That makes you the ghost prince, in the very least.” He leaned into the wall Nico was balanced on, his blond hair falling into his eyes. “Actually, come to think of it, you might have simply taken his place as the king of the ghost throne.”  
Nico's heart started to race. His face felt hot, and he felt a similar urge as before. He wanted to touch this boy's face.  
“I really must go.” He mumbled. “My crew is waiting for me.”  
The boy moved his hand, the one that was still clutching Nico at the elbow, and slid it down to hold his hand for a moment. “But I don't even know your name?”  
“It's Nico.” He blurted before he could talk himself out of it. “Just Nico.”  
William smiled. “Hello just Nico. That's quite a fitting name for the ghost king.”  
Nico made a small noise in the back of his throat before pulling away and practically sprinting for his ship.

“Master, is something wrong?” Midas asked, without a single note of concern in his voice.  
“No! Nothing is wrong! Absolutely nothing! I'm completely fine!” Nico squeaked. Midas Looked as though he didn't believe him in the slightest, but didn't question anything.  
Nico pushed away from the ghost man before even asking him about the errands he ran.  
He ended up pacing in his cabin. Back, forth, back, forth, letting the rocking of the boat aid in his sauntering. He couldn't get the boy out of his mind. The tall, blond one that had gotten uncomfortably close to him in a bar...Nico never thought that he would have that kind of problem.  
It wasn't that the boy made him feel uncomfortable, only that the boy made him feel too comfortable. Nico just wanted to melt into his arms, touch him, be near him, kiss him –  
Nico felt his face heat up again and he had to sit down on his bed.  
What is with that boy that is messing with my head? He wondered. No one had ever affected him like that.  
Maybe sleep is what he needed. Yes, that was it. I nice nap until his ship met up with one of another country's and he could steal some shit and cut a few people down. That would be relaxing...

Nico was woken up by the sounds of his crew shouting.  
“Trespasser!”  
“Scoundrel!”  
“We haven't had fun with a stowaway in ages.”  
“Tie his hands behind his back!”  
Nico sat up immediately. What was going on out there? A stowaway? That hadn't happened with him on board yet. Was it his father's policy to just let the crew do as they wish with the poor person? That's awful!  
He rushed to pull his waistcoat on over his sleeping clothes and tie his cutlass to his belt – just in case.  
When he opened the heavy door to his cabin and stepped out into the moonlight he was extremely surprised.  
Midas and at least six other crew men were surrounding a young man. The boy had his forearms tied together tightly and was struggling fiercely, and Midas's hand was clutching his hair, tilting his head back to bear his neck. The other ghost men reached out to touch the boy's face and chest with their icy, dead fingers.  
“Let me go!” The young man cried out.  
That voice, Nico thought. How could I have missed it?  
The stowaway was none other than William.  
“Stop!” Nico commanded. The entire crew was silent.  
“Drop him.” He growled.  
Midas unraveled his hand from William's blonde hair and William collapsed onto his knees. The ghost men backed away from William, standing at a respectful distance.  
“Please, master, we hardly ever have any fun.” one of the men piped up.  
“Yeah!” another raised his voice. “It's been ages since our last stowaway!”  
Nico shook his head. “I don't know what my father allowed, but I am not him. I'm the ghost king and you will do as I say. Back away from him.”  
The crew members did as told, and Nico stepped closer to William. His head was bowed, his messy blond curls obscuring his face. Nico saw his chest rise quickly with heated breath.  
He reached out and took the older boy's face in his hand, tilting it up until William was forced to look into his eyes. He asked a silent question: Are you okay?  
Nico felt the pressure in his hand as William tried to nod against his grip.  
“I'll be taking this one into my private room and deal with him there.” He tried to send a reassuring look to William as he gripped the side of his cutlass. He did have to keep up appearances. “If there is ever another stowaway, I want you to report it to me immediately. Is that clear?” He glared out at his crew.  
“I said, is. That. Clear?”  
“Yessir!”  
“All right.” Nico pulled William's face towards him roughly. “Stand up!”  
The boy did as he was told and calmly walked with Nico into his private cabin. Once the wooden door was closed behind him he started to vehemently apologize.  
“I was trying to follow you on board, but I fell into the cellar on accident and knocked my head! I didn't mean to stowaway! I'm really sorry – what are you doing?”  
Nico ignored his apologies and whipped out his sword, neatly cutting away the ropes that bound the other boy's wrists together.  
“I'm the one who should be sorry.” He proclaimed. “They shouldn't have done that to you.”  
William looked surprised. “Oh. I thought you were going to do something to me with the sword...”  
Nico smirked. “Not with the sword.”  
“What do you...” William trailed off as Nico pushed him against the door and pressed their mouths together. After tensing up for a moment, he responded enthusiastically.


End file.
